The Fine Line
by Sorlk Lewis
Summary: A moment.


Disclaimer: "Farscape" is © & ™ Jim Henson Productions, Rockne S. O'Bannon, Nine Networks, and the SciFi Channel. The "Farscape" universe and characters are creations and property of Rockne S. O'Bannon, of which I am only borrowing for a time. I have made my deposit, and should I return them slightly damaged, will pay for all repairs in order to return them to their original state in which they were loaned… g  
  
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Crouching down on the Terrace, Crichton ran his thumb over his lower lip… his mind quickly finding a place a trillion light years away in the vast expanse of stars and super novas. The sheer beauty of the view reflected in his ocean blue eyes…  
  
The hissing of Moya's door to this sanctuary broke the link his mind had made… the memories the stars had dredged up quickly faded to the blackness of the space surrounding them. Soft, trained footsteps entered behind him… the hissing close of the door signaling their measured stop only a hair's breadth behind him.  
  
The silence quickly enveloped them in a painful and cold way… it twisting and stretching to the point that one could have broken it with the drop of a pin. It somehow managed to stretch further without snapping the thread it had become, a ragged and torn thread hanging between the two of them like a death sentence…  
  
Until it finally did snap.  
  
"How have you been?"  
  
"I've been better," he replied quietly… letting a beat punctuate his words for him. "You?"  
  
"I've been worse."  
  
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth… the response was so… so unexpected, and yet so Aeryn at the same time. She had come a long way.  
  
Another long string of silence. This one more awkward than the first. Aeryn stepped up next to him, not looking down… no, she wouldn't look down. Instead she stared ahead like the good little solider she had once been.  
  
More silence. Death to them both.  
  
It was one thing he could never be sure of… talking at least told him something. But silence… silence was their enemy. One that they had always fought battles over.  
  
"We need to talk…"  
  
Quickly interrupting her, he said the first thing to come to mind - "Have a good trip?"  
  
"Don't change the subject, John."  
  
"We've had this conversation."  
  
"I missed you."  
  
Unexpected. A brilliant tactic on her part… disable the enemies best defense.  
  
"I missed you too." He finally admitted. Daring to steal a quick glance at her face… the face he hadn't seen in such a very long time… Crichton titled his head slightly, always sure to look ahead and only catch her beautiful face in his eyes for a brief moment.  
  
She looked tired. Worn and beat. The half-cycle they had been apart had taken their toll on both of them… it was only more predominate on her features. But her hair wasn't pulled back in the tight, conformist Peacekeeper fashion.  
  
Yes, she had it pulled back… but only in a messy, knotted ponytail. Tendrils of her raven colored hair escaped around her face and ears, complimenting that worn expression on her face…  
  
"I heard what happened."  
  
Aeryn looked down at Crichton after the words had escaped past his chapped lips. She quickly looked back out to the stars… warm and familiar, they seemed to sooth any lost soul in the Universe… they helped with the feelings of helplessness and loneliness that accompanied space.  
  
"What did you hear?"  
  
Peacekeeper. The Peacekeeper in her was back. Her voice cold and distant compared to before. She didn't want to talk about it… any of it. Not the past arn, nor the past cycle.  
  
"That he's gone."  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
No, but he wouldn't say that. The pain was still too fresh in her voice…  
  
"Pretty much."  
  
More silence.  
  
"How are you holding up?"  
  
She tried to keep the emotion out of her voice… but clearly that was one area her training was failing her in -  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
Fine. Simple word. Simple answer. Simple meaning. I don't want to talk about it.  
  
"And Talyn?"  
  
"Talyn is managing…"  
  
"You're his captain now."  
  
"Mentor. Advisor. You can't…"  
  
"…command a Leviathan, you can only persuade it."  
  
Their eyes met for a brief moment… both of them turning back to the stars immediately.  
  
"He's grown, John."  
  
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth once more, "How much bigger?"  
  
"He's half of Moya's size now."  
  
Crichton nodded his head in reply.  
  
"You should see him in action. He's incredible… you really should see him…"  
  
A fleeting thought of how perfect a mother Aeryn would be raced through is mind as he listened to her begin to describe Talyn in intricate detail… down to the most minute control button on the Command Deck.  
  
"… that's when we ran into a Peacekeeper squad…"  
  
Her last comment stopped abruptly, hanging dead in space. She still didn't want to talk about it. Which was fine. He had already learned most of what had happened from Pilot. When she was ready to tell him her experience, she would… until then, he was fine.  
  
Standing up, much to his legs chagrin, Crichton turned to Aeryn… her eyes still fixated on the stars. She could feel his eyes on her, though… a sixth sense of sorts that she had developed since she had met him.  
  
He gently gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him… brushing away the dirt and stray strands of hair sticking to her cheekbones - a very vague sense of déjà vu creeping into his mind from the long cycles before.  
  
Cupping her face in his hands, he gently leaned forward and kissed her. Only taking a brief moment to brush his lips over hers, he pulled back… not wanting to push her.  
  
The silence stretched dangerously close to breaking a second time… this time there would be more dire consequences…  
  
Clearing her throat, Aeryn finally took a step back - "I should go and…"  
  
"Yeah, you should go."  
  
Dropping his arms to his side, Crichton watched her walk out of the Terrace… not forever, he reminded himself. Not this time.  
  
Fin  
  
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Author's Notes: I know this was short, and weird, and probably made no sense what-so-ever to anyone who read it, so let's just leave it at that. This wasn't suppose to make sense. My muse and his buddy crept up behind me at 3 AM and whispered the idea in my ear (tyvm Clarence & Harvey) when I was actually writing something useful... but to get to the point of this -- this was meant for a "moment" between characters. You create a moment when the plot line is forever forgotten in that fraction of an instance, and instead, you focus on the characters. If you don't believe me, well...  
  
"Cross my heart, slap me dead, stick a lobster on my head!" 


End file.
